The Vampire's Assasin
by Dracula's sidekick
Summary: Abbie Van Helsing; the vampire slayer everyone is talking about. She is the considered the best in the southern Hemisphere. But when she is kidnapped, how will she cope with doing her enemies bidding? How will she escape? she will question everything she knows and think she knows. ON HITAS.
1. Preface: The Prophecy

**Preface: the Prophecy**

**Oh how wicked it is,**

**That death should mock the righteous,**

**Punish those who do good,**

**Burden them whom fight for us,**

**For their labor they reap nothing,**

**Woe the day that the devil will triumph,**

**Woe the day the noble shall feel pain,**

**Their deaths a tragedy and injustice,**

**The mighty band of heros slain,**

**While Lucifer laughs and dances with glee,**

**The lord dies slain by gluttony,**

**The doctor by merciless pain,**

**The lawyer with an instrument of use,**

**The fair lady assaulted again,**

**And the leader through his own cursed vice,**

**Forward many years,**

**Of loss and wicked gain,**

**The world shall continue to prosper,**

**The deaths of the hero's in vain,**

**But do not fear, **

**There comes a saving grace,**

**In the form of but a child,**

**Conceived by reckless love,**

**No way the parent's could hide,**

**Happiness and gayety come at a price,**

**The life of new hope is thus born,**

**But the child shall know no mother,**

**The young woman kissed by darkness,**

**Immortality breaks her away from her lover,**

**Left alone to face the world, the child and the father,**

**Childhood matures to womanhood,**

**The child learns the blow,**

**How to slay the wicked,**

**The father reveals all he knows,**

**Marked by fate to fulfill a hero's destiny,**

**No longer the childish wails lick her face,**

**A woman's features crown her glory,**

**A beauty in a bed of garden weeds,**

**Thus begins the savior's story,**

**But woe! The devil approaches!**

**How mighty and quick is he,**

**Whom ensnares our bravest hero,**

**Darkness' evil plan is at large,**

**No, No, No,**

**The Almighty thus intercedes,**

**Battles of justice mark her path,**

**But freedom is what she craves,**

**Forced to perform the devils bidding,**

**Our hero now nothing but a slave,**

**Liberty is close at hand,**

**The mighty battle draws near,**

**Both sides ready their men,**

**Neither side must loose,**

**They close towards the lion's den,**

**The clash of swords,**

**The cries of the battle hymn,**

**Father against son,**

**Limb torn from limb,**

**Fast approaches our hero's time,**

**Oh the strength and the agility!**

**How mighty is she!**

**The fiercest battle ever fought,**

**But goodness has the lead,**

**The fight is now at an end,**

**And hither the hero lies,**

**Her blood a crimson pool,**

**But soft, how does she fare?**

**The poor and courageous fool,**

**No breath come from her lips,**

**The devil is finally slain,**

**No longer does the fight need to transpire,**

**The quest for vengeance is over,**

**The ultimate death of the Vampire,**

**The world is right once again.**


	2. Chapter 1: Cursed future

**Chapter 1: Cursed future **

On a cold and windy night 17 years ago, a young woman, too young to be on her own at the dark hour it was, traveled quietly through the streets of a grungy part of town in Budapest, trying not to draw attention to herself, she slipped like a wraith through the alleyways, running like cobble stoned mazes through the city.

Carefully wrapped under many layers, trying desperately to save herself and the precious life inside her womb from this deathly chill, she walked towards the only solace she could think of.

Growing up in this foreign place, she knew the city well and could walk down the streets blindfolded and not get lost. Though this night, her destination would take her to a place she dared not go before.

Ever since childhood, she was warned about the witch that lived in the rickety old building dominating a vacant square, which was a taboo for all the populace. The stories went, that if people wandered to close, they would be captured by the witch and eaten for her dinner. But it was also said, that young ladies, foolishly carrying unwanted children would go and seek her wise help and opinion. Also, any of those brave enough to venture there to hear of their future, would also try their luck.

The woman wished to know her fate, that of her secret lover's and also that of her unborn child. The woman also knew, that no one could know of this journey, which is why she left this unwelcome visit to such an hour. She also bore gifts, payment for the witch, after all, she knew she wouldn't get her desired knowledge without gifts to offer in return.

Piercing blue eyes watched warily as she dashed across the street, one arm clutching the tiny parcels of payment and the other, clutching her small baby bump. When on the other side, she stopped jogging and warily walked a few steps forward, her terrified gaze surveying the place she had been warned about since a toddler.

Swallowing nervously and trying to summon up some courage, the woman walked stiffly to the rusty and dilapidated old fence. After, shoving it roughly to the side, she hesitantly walked up to the door, feeling the contents of her last meal burning her throat.

She lifted one fist to rap against the door, but before her fist could make purchase, a cold, gravely voice sounded out. "Don't lurk in doorway's my dear. It's rude. One might question your upbringing." The gravely voice said in a mixture of nonchalance and impatience. The woman gasped, her hand flying to her pounding heart.

The woman's courage dissipated and she was frozen in her spot, not daring to open the door or just walk away. To anyone who was watching, she would have looked like a deer trapped in headlights. The speaker made a sound of annoyance "For goodness sakes girl, just come in!" the voice said now very annoyed.

Not wanting to anger the witch, her shaking hand gently reached out and clasped the brass door handle, twisting it awkwardly. After pushing it open a fraction the woman peered in the dark room. But she could see nothing.

But curiosity and a desperate need for answers was overpowering her. The woman's legs propelled her forwards, plunging her into the very depths of the witches den itself. She swatted the cobwebs out of her way, pulling a face as they clung to her body. As soon as she was through the doorway, she was assaulted by the surroundings.

Dream catchers and various religious icons hung from strings on the ceiling. Crystals and tarot cards adorned a small table near the door. Chests and cushions made a fusion on the ground and around the circle of the inner area were piles of brightly coloured storage boxes with pictures of far away lands covering them. In the immediate center of the room was a round table with a black silk cloth, draped elegantly over it with a round crystal ball in the center, catching the light from the tiny rose candles placed around the room and throwing rainbows around the room. A shriveled hand with long fake frusia nails drummed impatiently on the table, the zoo of golden rings clicking as the fingers moved. The face of the hand's owner was hidden, shrouded in darkness.

The woman stood before the table, eyeing the chair, which was obviously meant for her. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a movement. She looked up to see the impatient face of a middle-aged woman. "Gah!" she cried and stumbled backwards, in her shock dropping the gifts she had brought. The witch's keen, penetrating gaze appraised her. "Well" she said abruptly, "I can see what the prophecy meant." She said rather bluntly, fixing an ornately patterned black headscarf with gold swirls.

The young woman tried to collect herself. She looked at the woman before her. She was gaunt, skinny as a twig, lines of worry and stress marred her once beautiful face. Her skin was tanned, showing she had spent a hard life outdoors, the state of her hands reflected this. Her green-brown eyes held a mixture of impatience and relief. She was wearing heavy makeup, with cat eye style eyeliner. Large gold hoop earrings adorned her ears. Her clothes were a mixture between alternative Egyptian fashion and the traditional gypsy garb.

"Have you finished staring at me like a codfish?" she demanded, insulted by the young woman's staring. The young woman closed her eyes and reopened them, a wave of fatigue washing over her. She looked at her again; the witch was looking at her just as critically and taking a draw from a cigarette. The witch breathed out the toxic fumes. The woman wrinkled her nose at the smell, briefly wondering if this was doing her baby any harm. "Are you going to sit down, or just stand there like an idiot?" she asked her, one eyebrow raised.

The young woman appraised the seat again and sat down warily. The witch put out the butt in a rose pink ashtray, then shoved it under the table. The witch placed her elbow on the table and held out her hand to the young woman. "Give me your hand," she said, daring the woman to object. The young woman reached out and gently placed her hand in the witches. The witch held it tightly, bending her head over the woman's hand and closed her eyes.

She stayed that way for a while and the young woman's un-comfort increased. She wriggled anxiously. She opened her mouth to speak when the witch shushed her. The young woman frowned, insulted and tried to speak again and was shushed still. She glared at her bowed head.

"Patience young one" the witch warned the young woman, unmoving. Finally she looked up, her face blank, her eyes also blank. Her lips began to move, like she was chanting some kind of silent incantation and her face turned to one of ancient sadness.

"It's happening again. History repeating itself. They are too late, again! Always to late!" she cried, squeezing the young woman's hand. "What on earth are you talking about?" the young woman asked, trying to pull her hand away. She wouldn't free it. She didn't answer her question either.

The witch slapped the young woman's arm. "Do you want to know the answers to your questions or not?" she hissed, looking straight into the young woman's eyes. The young woman was alarmed by the proximity and shied away from her. "I-I-I guess so." the young woman mumbled now unsure. The witch nodded stiffly, "I would wager, especially with a future as dangerous as your infants." She snapped, looking at the abandoned payments on the floor.

This made the alarm the young woman felt grow. "What do you mean?" gasped the young woman, now very worried, her hands flew to her stomach protectively, trying to hide her baby from any danger. The witch eyed the woman speculatively. "Are you sure you won't interrupt me?" the witch asked, looking through narrow eyes at the young mother in front of her. The young woman nodded furiously, feeling a bit giddy. "Are you sure?" the witch questioned, raising one eyebrow. Again the young woman nodded furiously.

The witch sighed. "Very well. But I warn you, there are shocking items in your own, your lover's and your baby's future." The witch said, rubbing her hands together, seeming like she wanted to cleanse them of what she saw. The young woman paused then nodded slightly, preparing herself for the worst.

Again the witch sighed, rubbing her temples. "It pains me to say this dear, but I must be honest with you. You come searching for the truth, and sometimes the truth is harder to hear than the lie. But it is better to hear the truth, you will learn to cope better with the truth than knowing that I lied to you." she turned to face the young woman her eyes full of the same ancient sadness which was there before.

"There was a prophecy made, about 90 years ago, after a group of brave men and one woman defeated a wicked creature, straight from the depths of hell, well, at least they thought they did. No, the creature survived, and his influence remained with the heroes until their peculiar deaths. What made their deaths so unusual was, all died within a few days of each other, in the most ironic of ways, ways in which it wasn't natural. It was obvious to everyone they where murdered, but the murderer was never caught, it was merely filed away in the un-solvable crimes section.

One, a rich Lord whom inherited his father's fortune, they believed he committed suicide. He was shot by his own hunting gun through the head. He was found in his study, a scotch waiting him on his desk, the bullet cartridges on the floor beside him. Ironic considering the Lord was quite fond of hunting, and they used his guns and his horses in their hunt for the devil.

Another, a good community Doctor, he was believed to have died from an overdose of Morphine. The needle was found near by, the blood pressure band still around his arm. Again, Ironic considering that the Doctor used Morphine on his dying beloved to try and numb her pain, her death caused by the one he hunted. He was found in his sanitarium, the mad people wailing and yelling at his demise.

Another, a Lawyer, found dead, a letter opener in his hand. His throat was sliced by the letter opener, blood pooling all over the paperwork of a new house purchase. Yet again, Irony rears its head. This same Lawyer was the one who made the link with the devil unknowingly, going into his lair under the impression he was finishing off the paperwork of the devil's purchase of Carfax Abbey.

The woman, died by an unusual method. She was found in her bedchamber, the sheets pushed back ready for sleep. The post mortem results showed that she had been violently assaulted, just before her death. They believed she died from cardiac arrest, caused by the shock of her attack. Irony, complete Irony! This very woman was the one who the Devil chased after, the one he wanted most. He assaulted her while her husband; the lawyer lay in a slumber beside her many years before hand.

And last, but certainly not least, the man who is the most renowned. The wise old man who led the fight against the devil. His death is the most ironic. He was found on the steps of Carfax Abbey itself, staked through the heart with his own wooden stake, rosary beads covered in blood wound tightly around one hand, in the other, a lock of the dead woman's hair."

The witch stopped speaking, pulled out of her own world and looked at the woman before her. The young woman was a deathly pale, her bottom lip trembling. The witch smiled a sad smile. Yes, the young woman knew this story, but the deaths she knew not of. The witch sighed and continued, trying to remember where she had left off.

"But I suppose you are wondering my dear how this relates to you? Well, the answer is quite simple. Your lover, Arthur, I believe his name is. Yes, yes. Such a strong, handsome man. Mysterious and dark. But he holds a secret. A secret which connects him to the brave band I spoke of ere while. There is magic in his blood and a family tradition he is bound to take part in. Bound by the spilled blood of his beloved grandfather. The great Abraham Van Helsing. Yes, your Arthur is Abraham's grandson. Before the old man died, he trained your lover, teaching him in the ways of his ancestors, how to slay the vampire, in case his grandfather's enemy ever returned. Superstitious old man. Eye, but he was wise and right. Dracula still lives. And until this monster is vanquished for good, your children and grandchildren will join their ancestors in the hunt. The hunt to kill Dracula."

The witch said this ominously, throwing her hands in the air to add intrigue. The young woman looked as though she was about to faint. This softened the witch, who was starting to grow fond of this young woman. Lowering her hands, the witch reached across the table to pat the young woman's hands in comfort. "Forgive me," the witch apologized motherly "I have scared you, and yet I still haven't answered your questions. But before I do, I wish to ask you a question." The young woman was shocked. _Why would the witch want to know about me? _The young woman wondered. Knowing that any question would make her forget about what lay in waiting for her when she got home, the young woman nodded in agreeance, not trusting her voice.

The witch gave her a soft smile and again petted her hands. "How old are you dear?" she asked gently. The young woman swallowed noisily. "Seventeen." She said softly and hung her head in shame. The witch chuckled, the noise sounding odd in her gravely voice. "Such a ripe and tender age, pity that you wont age any more than a few years." The witch said sadly, still holding the woman's hands. "I beg your pardon?" the young woman asked alarmed.

The song on the record player changed to a grim tune, reflecting the atmosphere perfectly. The witch sighed again, looking sadder than before. "My dear, I am afraid your heart won't be beating for much longer. Your human life is limited. But do not panic dear, because you will not see the moment your life ends, you will go peacefully." The witch said trying to be comforting.

A tear rolled out of the woman's eye, falling softly down her pinked cheek. "Will I get to see the little one?" she asked softly, hoping she could at least hold her baby before she left. The witch nodded. "Yes, you will spend a few months with your child. But make sure that the child stays with its father. All the protection and love it could possibly need come from that man's heart. He will adore the child, no matter how indifferent he seems at the moment." The witch clarified

Closing her eyes and letting a few tears escape, the young woman sucked in a deep breath. "And my baby will be fine? Healthy? Happy? Safe?" asked the young woman, her eyes still closed, desperately clinging to hope for the sake of her unborn child. There was a pause. The room was still as the witch battled with the information burning a hole in her mind. The witch knew she had to tell the young woman, she had promised her the truth, no matter how harsh it was.

The pause was too much for the young woman. Her eyes flew open, her panic suffocating, coating her face and singing the stale air of the room. "Well?" cried the young woman in a panic, "what is to become of my child?" The young woman was standing now, her breathing heavy, her arms wound around herself protectively. The witch sat there, staring off into the distance, wishing what she saw not to be true.

Slowly and carefully, the witch stood up, looking as though she had aged 20 years in a matter of a few moments. Never had the witch felt her gift was a curse, never until she met the woman who was carrying the prophecy in her womb. Of all those like her in the world, she had been chosen. At first she was conceited, feeling that she was better than her fellow sages because of being chosen to relay the prophecy. It was only now that the witch realized the magnitude of her task, of the severity. "Well?" the young woman demanded again. The witch sighed and opened her lips to speak.

"Death."


	3. Chapter 2: Crime scene

**A/N: Please note that I own none of SM's or Bram Stoker's Characters. Collin, 'the figure', the sergeant, and the detective team however are my own characters. ** Chapter 2: Crime scene

_Sunday 9__th__ May, 2010_

_Banks of the River Thames _

London, England

_11pm_

Collin Perkins blew on his hands in a desperate attempt to warm them. It was freezing, an unseasonably cool day for late spring. It was supposed to be a Sunday evening, but Collin had been hurriedly called from the Pub to the crime scene. Collin hadn't gone willingly, but this was his job.

Collin Perkins was a crime scene investigator and had been for many a year. Specially employed by the London Police Service, it was Collins job to assess a crime scene and report back to the senior constable. Collin also had to interview suspects, which he did with great pleasure. Collin enjoyed his job, no matter how much he was complaining about it now.

Collin was lean for a man in his mid forties. His black hair was reasonably short, but he needed a haircut presently so his hair was rather wild and unruly. Steaks of gray hair dotted the otherwise coal black mop. His quick green eyes missed nothing, or so he thought. He was fairly tall, about 6 foot 4.

Usually, Collin wouldn't have minded such a call out as this, but this case wasn't the best case to be dealing with on a Sunday night. The circumstances, which surrounded it where truly, stumping. He had combed the alley for hours, desperately searching for the minutest clue, but found nothing. It was as if the murderer had vanished into thin air.

The body, which had been found by a drunk patron of a near by club was truly gruesome. A young man, no more than 18 appeared to have been ripped apart. His head had been forcibly ripped from his body and his arms and legs severed by some unknown sharp tool. There was blood and entrails everywhere and a lot of the officers and forensic searchers at the scene where not coping too well. Collin was having a hard time looking at it himself.

Collin ran a hand through his wild hair. This had been a tough night and they didn't appear to be achieving any ground. The sound of footsteps approached the alley. There was a whistle and Collin turned to see the senior constable standing at the entrance of the alley with a very strange figure standing quietly beside him.

Collin jogged towards the pair, his long black trench coat billowing out, his red tie, flapping against his cream dress shirt. His Italian leather business shoes, squeaking out protests to the active movement. "Sir" said Collin, his cockney accent filled with respect as he nodded at his boss. "Perkins!" the senior constable replied, his polished British twang of an accent caressing the words, patting him on the back.

The constable wasn't in uniform, having only recently been informed of the ghastly scene, he was pulled away from his dinner. Naturally he was dressed rather casually, black slacks and a gray woolen jacket stretched over his potbelly.

The constable slung his arm over his employees shoulder and led him forward, his tag along following carefully behind. The constable ignored them for the time being. "I came as soon as I could." He explained, taking a quick glance at the gruesome scene then quickly averting his gaze. "I heard this one is a bastard to solve." He said trying to lighten the mood.

Collin nodded. "Yes sir, there is nothing! All of us have done sweeps but still we have found bugger all!" Collin cried, his earlier frustration creeping back, he turned and spat on the cobblestones.

The sergeant nodded grimly. "I thought as much." he replied headily. The sergeant paced down the alley, trying to put some distance between himself and the hideous scene. Suddenly, the sergeant remembered why he came, this made him grow lighter. "That's why I brought some help." The sergeant smiled, gesturing towards the curious other.

Collin turned; suddenly remembering the figure was there. The person he saw before him was a bit of a shock. They were tiny compared to him, about 5 foot 5 at the most. They appeared to be lean, but they wore that much clothing it was impossible to tell. A black accubra adorned their head, hiding any traces of hair. A black bandanna covered most of their face, leaving only the eyes free. The eyes, which stared cautiously, back at him where the most unusual shade of blue and they were bright and intelligent. A black army style jacket adorned the upper half of the torso; thick black industrial style pants hung loosely around the lower half. Black leather fingerless gloves adorned the hands, small pale fingers poking through the holes and a black leather duster coat covered the whole ensemble.

The figure held out their hand to Collin in greeting. Hesitantly, Collin took it and shook it firmly. There was no words exchanged and Collin took it that this wasn't a very verbose person.

"Well" sighed the sergeant. "You two seem to be getting along well, which means I have no regret in leaving you." the sergeant smiled happily, pleased to be escaping. Collin panicked "sir? Where are you going?" Collin asked worried. The sergeant chuckled lightly "someone's got to fill in the paperwork! I'll be back in an hour!" he said, leaving no room for complaint. Cheerfully, he whistled his way down the cobble stone street and disappeared off to the side.

Collin swore, "Bloody hell" Collin said kicking the ground. He turned and watched in amazement. The figure bent down gently. The long black duster making a pool around their hunched form, the soft squeak of leather boots was the only sound, which echoed down the cobble stone street. A black leather fingerless glove appeared from inside the coat. Slowly and curiously, the fingers twitched down towards the mark of the perpetrator on the black stones.

The figure's pointer finger traced carefully along the outside of a very faint dusty footprint. Collin hadn't noticed it on his inspection of the alley and in amazement he realized that he had stepped over it. Jeez. Some detective he was. No wonder he was still waiting for that promotion to senior detective. The figure had been here for no more than 3 minutes and they had already found this most vital clue. Collin mentally chastised himself and straightened his red tie.

Collin turned his attention back to the figure and again realized how faulty his methods where. The mysterious figure was now looking intently at their fingers at the almost black drizzle oozing over the tip of their middle and pointer fingers on their right hand. Before Collin realized what was happening, the figure brought the liquid to their nose, closed their hypnotic blue eyes and sniffed it.

The figure opened their blue eyes and stood up. Again Collin couldn't help but notice how short the figure was, and he was sure the accubra made up a decent amount of the height of the figure. The blue eyes flashed to his own muddy brown ones and he couldn't help but become lost in their gaze.

The figure held out their fingers towards him, offering him, as Collin realized a few seconds too late, a smell of the mysterious substance. Collin shook his head, trying to clear his mind. "No thanks" Collin said with a hint of confusion in his voice. His strong cockney accent ringing loud, seeming like a thunderstorm compared to the soft murmurings of his colleagues who where conducting investigation work in the corner.

The figure made a sound of annoyance and shoved their fingers at him, their blue eyes flashing with a mixture of impatience and smugness. _Smug idiot _Collin thought still hurting over the fact that this stranger was doing a better job than him. Collin leant forward gently and took a sniff. He winced, his face paling as he pulled away. "God!" he choked "is that blood?" he asked horrified, trying to forget the repugnant smell. The figure nodded then their head whipped around to the east.

The figure peered curiously into the dark. They seemed to lean forward, rocking so far forward that it seemed if they moved any more forward they would face plant into the cobbles. Suddenly, a female scream filled the air and all the rest of the detective team's head whipped in the same direction that the figure was looking.

The team squinted into the dark with no avail. There was no humane way that any human could see in that darkness. But the scream gave them all the shivers and for the first time, they realized that the murderer was closer than they cared to believe. A freezing cold breeze wafted down the dank alley, bringing with it repugnant smells of algae, mold and seafood and most importantly the distinct smell of human blood.

Collin was still trying to determine what to do when the figure sprang into action. They walked carefully towards the darkness, their attention strangely focused on some point that he couldn't see. It took him a few seconds to realize that he should follow too. He walked up to the figures tense paused form, on the outer ridges of the crime scene florescent lights.

Just as Collin reached the figure, they started to move again, slipping into the shadows. Determined not to be left behind and denied a chance at possibly finding the murderer, Collin followed only to be shoved backwards by a strong black-gloved hand.

Collin stumbled back surprised and he looked baffled at the furious gaze of the figure. The once deep blue eyes, now steel gray and hard. The figure shook their head and turned to go again. Collin was angry now; he was not going to be cheated out of this. He stalked forward and was again shoved back. "What?" he yelled at the figures angry glare. "shhh!" the figure shushed pressing their finger against the black bandanna which covered all but their eyes. "Don't you shh me!" cried Collin, his harsh accent filling the tense freezing air of the English night. "I'm coming!" he cried, pushing against the hand, which seemed to be now a barrier.

Collin was met with a glare that chilled him right to his core. "Stay here" spat a severe heavily accented Australian voice. Collin could do nothing but watch as the figure disappeared into the night.

The figure danced through the shadows, their quick eyes darting to and fro, looking for any sign of possible confrontation. Their black-gloved hand slipped to their belt, pulling out their desert eagle gun and slipping the bullets in the slot. After loading the gun they switched the safety off, holding it ready. Some how though, the figure got the feeling that bullets wouldn't kill this murderer.

The words of the figures great grandfather, their mentor echoed through their head. "A brave man's blood is the best thing on this earth when a woman is in trouble." The figure took a deep breath trying to steady their heartbeat. The sound of the beat would alert their prey and would help their prey to avoid them. The figure was in no position to let this murderer slip away.

The figure reached the end of the alley, the alley ended where a new one began; it led along the banks of the Thames, making a snake like pattern throughout London. There was more light here, aiding the figure in their search. The figures keen eyes scanned the area, every sense hyper aware. The only sound though, was that of the figures breath.

There was a whoosh to the side of the figure. The figure spun, stabbing the air with the pistol. Nothing but the snake like walkway curving around a bend towards the docks. The whisper of air behind the figure, made them spin. Still nothing to be seen. That did not mean however, that the figure was the only one here. No, the figure knew better. The figure also new, that it's prey was trying to be the hunter. It was playing games, like most of its kind did.

"Come on." The figure breathed, their accent a stranger to these shores, "Your master unleashed you for a reason." The figures voice was muffled by the bandana over their mouth. The figure briefly considered removing it, but thought the better of it; this disguise added intrigue and any momentary lapse in concentration would be the figures death.

Sure enough, a high feminine piecing laugh sounded out. The figure looked up searching for the noise. There. Got them! A dark silluette was perched on the slate rooftop of a nearby house. As the figure watched, the sillutte, changed shape, shifting from their perched position to a crouch.

"Come on sweetheart" the figure called to the silluette, "I don't have time to play your games, just come down before I have to come up there and get you and I will consider sparing you" the figure said their voice severe. The silluette gave an inhuman screech and as fast as lightning, danced across the rooftops, prancing to the old fashioned gas lamppost and swirled down it, a streak of red curls. They landed, the long white dress billowing around them.

She was beautiful. Long bright red curls flowed angrily down the lean and curvaceous torso of her body. Her skin was a deathly pale; her high cheekbones making her face look like it was carved from a precious diamond. Her full bright red lips were pulled back into a hungry smile and her sharp white teeth glistened, dripped in venom. The small, almost button nose was the only real indicator to the physical age of its bearer. Brilliant red eyes seemed to pulse as they assessed the threat before them.

A salty and briny wind, blasted the two from the nearby sea as they faced off, neither willing to show the first signs of weakness or fear. The vampire's long, pure white dress billowed around her, making her look all the more otherworldly. The figure was the first to break the silence.

"You are a long way from home" the figure spat coldly, feeling no need to use any common curtesy to this vampire. The vampire laughed, throwing back her head as her high screechy laugh danced around the walls, echoing an eerie harmony. The figure refused to be thrown off guard and their finger danced over the trigger, while their other hand disappeared into their coat, their fingers securing themselves around the hilt of the stake covered in werewolf venom.

The vampire stopped laughing and snapped her head back to look again at their opponent. The vampire was haughty; she could easily defeat this measly human. But her curiosity was spiked, why did they feel the need to hide themselves? The vampire felt a bit off put at not knowing what gender their opponent was, but they refused to let this show. She would figure it out after she snapped their neck.

"Indeed" purred the vampire, her red full lips pulling into a harsh smile "but it seems so are you" she cooed, her Romanian accent shattering the silence. She waited for an answer, determined to use their voice to establish a bit more about them. But no response came. The opponent was keeping carefully silent, almost like they knew her plan.

"No response?" the vampire snarled, a bit put out. The figure's eyes sparkled in delight at their now irate enemy. This was the last straw. The vampire leapt at the figure with a lightning fast movement, determined to push them into the murky waters conveniently behind them, but the figure was too quick, almost like they had predicted the movement.

The figure spun, turning to shoot in quick succession the bullets into the vampires back. She screamed in annoyance and whirled to face the now advancing opponent. The singing of a metal sword through the air as the figure ran slicing at the vampire. She ducked dancing around the figure as they tried to make a purchase to her skin. The figure panted, struggling to keep up with the vampire. The figure yelped as in a lighting quick succession, the vampire kicked the sword out of their hand, and then grabbing them by the neck slammed them into the wall. The world seemed to spin as the figure struggled to remove the iron clad hands of the vampire from around their neck. Their breathing was short and fast as they gasped for air that seemed to be being squeezed from their lungs.

The vampire laughed. "You pitiful human!" she cried, her accent as suffocating as her hands. The figure gasped, clawing at her hands to no avail, her grip never faltered. A brief thought ran through the figure's mind. _This is it. This is the end I knew was always coming, I'm going out like old abe did. At least I'm following the family tradition. God save my soul _the figure thought as their vision grew cloudy, black clouds hazing over their vision, their breath, barely a gasp. The vampire grinned with satisfaction as she watched her victim die. She laughed, filled with the sadistic joy at killing another human in her killing spree.

The heavens thundered in defiance at the evil occurring before them. Somewhere far out to sea, lightning struck, lighting up the world in fury. When the lighting struck, so did a newfound power in the figure. It was like God reached down and sent some of his power into the figure. Without their mind commanding it, the figure's hand raised the stake poised high like the fangs of a cobra, and like a cobra strike, the figures hand fell, staking their attacker straight through the chest.

The vampire screamed and instantly let go of the figure. The figure fell like a dead weight to the cobble stones as the vampire screamed, clutching her chest, the point of the mighty stake poking through her white dress, covered in the blood she had consumed that night.

The figure gasped, their hand clutching their aching throat their eyes flew up to watch the screaming figure of the vampire as she died for the last time. The eyes of the figure watched in amazement as she fell to her knees, her fingers desperately trying to dislodge the stake wedged there. Dark blood poured from her eyes, nose and mouth and underneath the bandanna the figure made a face of disgust.

The vampire died quickly. Collapsing with a defiant shriek, there was a ghostly blast of colour, which flowed like a vapor through the air, over the bay and disappeared from sight.

Still struggling for breath, the figure stood and stumbled over to the corpse of the vampire. Looking down, they watched in disgust as the skin, which had covered the vampire's body decay rapidly before their eyes. The skin fell off and where it should have hit the cobblestones it vaporized and turned into gas, which hissed like a rattlesnake.

The figure pulled off their accubra and held it to their chest, strands of hair billowing in the breeze, which had suddenly picked up, blowing with it the smells of the harbor and decaying flesh. With a look of moroseness in their shining blue eyes, the figure whispered a quick prayer and took out a silver butane cigarette lighter. Flipping open the little lid, the figure quickly and carefully set fire to the bones, making sure that they caught fire.

As the figure watched, they couldn't help but feel a tiny bit of smugness. They had done it. Their family had spent years searching and waiting for some clue at their arch nemaphis return, and over the last 50 years, grandfather Abe's fears where slowly becoming a reality. He was beginning to show himself, fang by bloody fang. They just needed to draw him out, to expose him and kill him once and for all. They hoped, by killing his creatures one by one, word would filter down the grape vine and reach him. They knew he would seek revenge and they where preparing for battle.

The figures father had been doing this, going to crime scenes after work and hunting down the vampires and killing them. Their father had taught them the family knowledge and trained them. This was the figure's first vampire hunt alone without assistance and the figure was a bit smug that they had killed such an influential vampire figure unassisted. Well, almost.

The figure was sure that this would anger him. This would bring him out of hiding.

The figure watched as the flames licked the bones, the putrid smell reminding the figure of the demon it had been. The flames lit up the dark clothing of the figure, the reflection of the flame dancing in the figure's eyes. The figure replaced their hat at the sound of running feet pounding down the adjacent alleyway. "One bride down. Two more to go" the figure murmured ominously.


	4. Chapter 3: Abbie Van Helsing

**A/N: Please note that I do not own any of SM's or Bram Stoker's brilliant Characters. Collin, Abbie, the sergeant, and the Arthur however are my own characters. I also own a copy of Muse's Album absolution. Don't forget to review! Any comment is worth it!**

Chapter 3: Abbie Van Helsing

_Monday 10__th__ of May_

_1:00 am_

_London police station, _

_England_

"So let me get this straight" Collin puffed, breathing out the smoke from his dwindling cigarette, he was exhausted and wasn't thinking properly, so no matter how many times the senior constable said it, the less sense it made. Collin ran his fingers through his hair and continued, "vampires exist and the fellow I met in the alley was a vampire hunter who killed the suspect as he was attacked by this vampire. And to preserve the secrecy, he burnt the bones to hide the evidence" Collin finished looking disbelieving at the constable.

The constable stopped pacing and looked at him warily. The door swung open and the strange "Fellow" walked in carefully. The figure had caught the last part of the conversation; admittedly, they had been eavesdropping for the last 15 minutes. Collin looked at the figure, still disbelieving and not trusting the story they had supposedly told.

The figure was still insulted by something that Collin had just said and felt it was time to reveal their identity to the idiotic detective. "Fellow?" the figure scoffed. "Jeez, you really need to get your eyes and ears checked." The figure teased, trying to hide their wounded ego.

Collin blushed at being caught out and with false bravado said, "my eyes and ears are fine thank you very much." much to Collins annoyance, the figure laughed. They looked at the sergeant "boy sir, you sure now how to pick 'em this guy's a half-wit!" the figure burst into hysterical laughter. Collin glared at the figure. How dare he! Collin thought angrily.

As Collin looked, the figure stopped laughing and began to pull off their leather gloves. Soft feminine hands appeared. A golden heart signet ring with a small pink stone adorned the right ring finger and on the left hand a dark brown leather rope beaded with a mixture of red and silver beads was tied around the wrist, underneath the leather bracelet was a silver one with many different chains and tiny silver crucifixes hanging off it. These hands reached up to the face and took off the accubra and placed it on the table, next to the gloves. A tuft of bright golden hair, tied back into a long braid, fell down the figures back. The hands then moved to bandana covering most of the face. Pulling off the bandana, the face of the figure was revealed. Soft gentle cheekbones and rosy cheeks appeared, a set of soft pink small lips where pulled into a cheeky smile and a small nose completed the pale complexion.

It was a girl! Collin rocked back in his chair in shock at the young woman standing before him. "Don't look so shocked, man!" the girl said chuckling, she looked no older than 17. Collin realized his mouth had been hanging open and he slammed it shut.

He had been out witted and beaten by a girl.

Collin instantly felt ashamed. He also felt slightly idiotic and like a loser, but he pushed that to the side, unwilling to rile in defeat much longer. Collin flicked up his head and looked at the girl, the "vampire hunter."

The girl hardly looked dangerous. She was neatly folding the bandana into a tiny square, the gloves where folded neatly, waiting patiently in the large coats left pocket for her to pick them up again. _Why she's just a child, she should still be in school! _Collin thought looking at her critically, wondering what her parents thought of their child wandering the streets at night.

Almost as if she sensed his gaze, the girl looked up from what she was doing and looked at him. The girl's gaze narrowed. "What?" she snapped, instantly shattering the innocent image Collin had begun to form of her in his mind. "Nothing" Collin muttered. "It's rude to stare" the girl shot at Collin. Collin began to retort but was cut off by the senior constable.

"That will do Perkins!" barked the senior constable. Collin was shocked and stuttered "but, but sir-!" he began and was again cut off. "I said enough!" cried the constable. Embarrassed by his outburst, the constable sighed and rubbed the corners of his eyes sleepily. "It has been a long night for all of us. I want to get this done as quickly as possible so I can see what sleep I can get from this horrid night. But there are forms to sign. Damn forms, Damn paperwork!" the constable muttered flustered

"But" the constable continued, slipping his thumbs underneath his braces "proper introductions are in order." He said nodding, agreeing with himself that it was proper that he set the records straight. He nodded towards the girl. "Abbie Van Helsing is the youngest member of the very distinguished vampire hunting family. She has been trained by the best, and will follow in her great grandfather's legacy," the constable said solemnly, giving Abbie a soft smile and a nod.

Abbie smiled, proud of her heritage and stood straighter, smiling happily to herself. She looked smugly over at that idiotic detective. _Suck on that! _Abbey thought triumphantly.

The senior constable interrupted Abbie's gloating. "And this, Abbie, is one of my best detectives, Collin Perkins. He has worked with me since he was a young lad. He is the best of his field in all of Britain." The constable smiled at Collin and Collin grinned back. It was now Collin's turn to gloat. He was almost singing with delight at the stellar praise he had received and he felt mildly relieved that the constable's opinion of him hadn't lowered in the light of recent events.

Meanwhile, Abbie snorted internally. _Gee, if this guy's the best, the Brit's are doomed! I hope for their sake that the MI-5 are at least slightly better. Look at him, like a peacock! Foolish men go nowhere in life. _Abbie thought bitterly, looking over the preening Collin.

The constable sighed, catching both off guard. Smoothing his beard the Constable looked at his watched and was alarmed at the time. "Good God! Is that the time already! I best be off, Petunia gets into such a worry when I'm late home. And you too be best off too. Miss Van Helsing, allow me to at least help you catch a taxi at this ungodly hour. It's mighty dangerous for a lovely young woman like yourself wandering about at this hour." The constable said, fretting unnecessarily about everyone's well being but his own.

Abbie was stung, offended that even after her hard work, she was still seen as delicate and fragile. Her teeth ground together at the stereotype, which would be placed upon her for no doubt the rest of her life.

But Abbie wasn't raised as a heathen. She had manners and etiquette. She also knew when there was a fight not worth fighting. So she smiled sweetly at the constable and said politely "thank you sir, I would much appreciate it."

Collin rolled his eyes in the corner. Abbie saw this and when the constable turned to pull on his sweater, she poked out her tongue at him. Collin narrowed his eyes and was about to chastise her when the constable interrupted him.

"Perkins, would you be a lad and fill out the paperwork for me? That's the boy! I really appreciate all your hard work tonight and I shall see you bright and early tomorrow morning. We will discuss this then." The constable fired, leaving no room protest and giving Collin a warning look, almost daring him to object.

Collin hung his head and sighed, "yes, sir." He said glumly. Collin began to shuffle the papers scattered around the room into one neat pile. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as the senior constable opened the door to the room, gentlemanly ushering Abbie out.

Abbie smiled thankfully at the constable and slipped out of the room, walking down the plain and softly carpeted hallway, towards the lobby of the station. As she went Abbie pulled on her leather gloves, her hat and bandanna tucked carefully under one arm. Abbie through one glance back over her shoulder to look at the detective. She shrugged, pushing away her ideas of bidding him a farewell and kept walking. The senior constable threw one look at Collin and then quickly followed behind Abbie.

Arthur Van Helsing paced around his living room, the house was pitch black, Arthur was so worried that he didn't notice the sunlight escape from the sky. But the darkness didn't bother him. He had lived in it for the last 16 years.

Life without Veronica, life without his beloved, had scarcely ceased to mean anything any more. His only reason for living was his daughter. On her deathbed, he had promised his love that he would do all he could for her. He promised to protect her and train her in the family ways. His daughter was the light of his dark life.

His daughter whom should have been home hours ago.

_Abbie! _Arthur thought for the thousandth time. _Where the hell are you. _Abbie was going to be severely punished when she walked through that door. Scratch that, worse than punished. Arthur was furious. _When she walks through that door, I swear to god! _Arthur thought, letting the thought trail off. Arthur couldn't bring himself to think of what he would do if she didn't walk through that door. No, that would undo him. He couldn't think of that now, he would think about it later when she was wrapped in his arms and safe.

Again, Arthur looked at the clock. 9 o'clock. Abbie had told him she was going to sleep over her best friend's Scarlett's house, promising she would return home after lunch today. He had waited since one o'clock, and she still hadn't come. When it was 4 o'clock, he had rung the Holmes residence in a panic, only to find that Mrs. Holmes had no idea of any sleep over happening. She had been home all day yesterday, and all day today and had never seen her.

It was only after hanging up the phone, that Arthur had realized where his daughter was. Abbie had gone on a hunt. To see if his theory was right, he had raced down to his shed in the backyard where he kept all his slaying equipment. Sure enough, two stakes where missing, so was the desert eagle gun, a cartridge of bullets, his grandfather's sword, his large black coat and hat where gone and so was his bandana. Also one of his tool belts, which contained any miscellaneous objects he might possibly need, was gone too.

He also knew that Abbie had followed that lead he had found. A lead, which suggested there might have been a bride in London. He had dashed to phone, trying to get the next flight to London, only to find that the next flight was the next morning. So he was left with one thing to do.

Wait and pray that Abbie would arrive home soon.

There was a sound and Arthur whipped his head around to hear that there was a set of heavy footsteps clumping up the stone pathway to the front door. His heart began to race. _Please let that be Abbie, please dear god let it be Abbie. _Arthur prayed internally.

A key was placed into the lock and the lock clicked. The door whined open and was shut roughly. Arthur folded his arms closely across his chest and stood in the entrance to the living room. There was a sound of shuffling, the placing of keys on the table beside the door. The smell of sweat and smoke wafted through the doorway, intertwined with it, the distinct female smell he was so accustomed to. The sound of fabric rustling caught his attention and then more shuffling.

Abbie walked towards the kitchen, hoping her father was asleep. She yawned hugely, flicking on the living room light to see a very mad Arthur, standing there with his arms folded, wild brown hair and black circles under his eyes. Abbie froze, for the first time, fearing his reaction. She knew now she would receive no praise for her kill. "Oops." Slipped from her lips and she flushed with shame. She looked up to see her father's face reddening, not with embarrassment or shame, but with total rage.

"OOPS!" he bellowed, his fists balling up. "I HAVE BEEN PANICING FOR 9 BLOODY HOURS AND YOU SAY OOPS!" he looked like he was about to explode. Abbie leant away stung. Her lip trembled. "I'm sorry dad, I just thought-" she began but was cut off. "YOU THOUGHT WHAT? THAT YOU WOULD RUN OFF TO ENGLAND ON A WILD GOOSE HUNT TO FIND A BRIDE THAT WASN'T THERE?" Arthur yelled, his arms flying madly in the air.

Abbie swallowed against the lump in her throat and bit back the tears. "Daddy, I'm sorry." She whispered, her voice shaking. "SORRY! SORRY DOESN'T CUT IT ABBIE! I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU LIED TO ME! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW CLOSE I WAS TO CALLING THE POLICE? TO CALLING THE ORDER?" Arthur continued, spit flying everywhere.

Abbie gasped. The order? Her father was going to call the order? Boy, she had really screwed up if he was going to interact with them. What had he called the chief? An idiotic, oversensitive madman who couldn't distinguish what was important? He had told Abbie at the time that the order was a good for nothing book club full of little old ladies who didn't have the balls to take action. If he had called the order and asked for help, that really would have gone down well.

Arthur saw the recognition on her face and continued his rant. "I can't believe you Abbie." He said icily, no longer yelling. "I am VERY disappointed in you." he said his voice laced with disappointment and anger, he turned away from her and walked to the window, which looked out onto the street. He leant heavily on one arm against it and stared without seeing anything.

Abbie turned to walk away, knowing that pushing her point would be futile and probably land her in more trouble than she already was. She shoved her hands deep into her black slacks and her fingers brushed against the cool metal of the necklace, which the bride had been wearing. She had taken its as evidence.

Pulling it out of her pocket, Abbie stared darkly at it. An elegant gold chain was encrusted with thousands of tiny diamonds, creating a pattern that made it almost look like it was made of delicate snowflakes. In the center was a large sapphire, which caught the light and threw rainbows around the room. Her fist closed around it as she tried push away the images, which danced, before her eyes like a wildfire, taunting and teasing her.

Turning, she placed the necklace on the coffee table, hearing it clink against the dark oak wood. This caught Arthur's attention and he turned his head sideways, watching Abbie out the corner of his left eye. He eyed the necklace and turned around fully. Curious, he walked to the table, not meeting Abbie's eyes and picked it up. Holding it in his hand, he examined it confused.

He looked up, turning to face Abbie who was now staring at her feet, like they where the most fascinating things in the world. "What is this?" Arthur asked baffled holding out the prize to Abbie. Abbie looked up and met his gaze. Sighing loudly she ran her fingers through her silky golden hair, which was falling out of the braid. The words bubbled to her lips, but she was deciding whether or not to say them.

"A token." Abbie whispered softly, looking at her father, her eyes slightly sparking with pride. "The necklace of the deceased bride." She continued just as soft. Her father's mouth fell open in shock, the air rushing out in one big whoosh. Abbie's fingers twisted the bottom of her braid, her foot lazily rolling out to one side. "I did it." She whispered. "I killed Mariska."

Arthur was speechless. His daughter had killed one of the illusive brides of Dracula. He couldn't make up his mind whether to chastise her for how much danger she had put herself in, or praise her for her amazing job. Taking Arthur's silence as a dismissal, Abbie turned on her heel and walked towards the stairs, eager to reach her room and just fall asleep. She hadn't slept on the plane trips, too or from England and the jet lag had embraced her like a thick blanket; she couldn't escape it, no matter how hard she tried.

As she reached the bottom stair and began the climb to the upper story, her father's footsteps stopped her. Arthur jogged out of the living room to the hallway holding the stairs, the necklace dangling lightly from his fingers. Abbie waited for him to say something. There where a few moments of dead silence before Arthur spoke. "Your grounded… for the rest of your life." He said weakly. Abbie nodded and smiled softly. "Of course" she mumbled still smiling and continued to climb the stairs.

Collin sat at his desk, his arm supporting his head as his pointer finger traced the final draft of the report on the death of the young man in the alleyway. He was the only one left in the office, everyone else had returned home long ago. His light was the only source of light in the dark room. The stale and dank air had settled around him and covered his sleepy form.

Sighing, Collin leaned back in his chair and took a sip from his cold cappuccino. The white cup covered in cracks, the reminates of a sticker, which said 'I survived the Colorado Rapids' was stuck to one side of the cup. Running his hands through his hair his sleepy eyes again surveyed the report, checking for the last time that the excuse he had made for the young girl sounded plausible.

There was a sound to Collin's left. Drowsily Collin looked around. "Hello?" he grumbled. There was no reply. Shrugging, Collin went back to looking at his papers.

In the darkness behind Collin was a cloaked figure. Slowly, not making a sound they advanced forward. Smiling widely, revealing a set of sharp white teeth covered in venom, the figure placed their pale, freezing white hand on Collin's shoulder. Collin froze and his eyes darted to his shoulder to see the hand. The stranger whirled Collin around to face them. Collin gasped loudly as he stared into the blood red eyes of a young boy, dark brown hair barely visible from underneath his hood. "Do you believe in vampire's now Collin?" the vampire grinned largely as his hand grasped around Collin's throat lifting him into the air. Collin fought for breath as the boy craned his neck to the side, his red lips pulled back over his poised teeth. "Yes." Gasped Collin, "I believe." He panted as he fought back in vain. The vampire's teeth sunk through the soft flesh at Collins neck and he screamed in pain.

After a few seconds, Collin's heart stopped beating.


	5. chapter 4: Abduction

A/n: Hello! Here's the next chapter. I hope you like it. Please review! Please! I'm begging on my knees here! Please!

**Chapter 4: Abduction**

Monday, 21st of June 2010. Saint Vladimir's High School, Sydney suburbs Australia  
_Abbie sat at the school computer she had claimed in free period, bored. She had legal studies to catch up with, thanks to the England adventure, not to mention the maths. But the appeal of freedom that free periods offered where too much to resist. So she sat at the computer, contemplating how serious the grounding her father had given her was. Surely he would let her go on just a small hunt, just to see if the Sydney coven was behaving. _  
_Abbie sighed, realising the pointlessness in asking. Grounded was grounded, and there was nothing neither she, nor anyone could do to change his stubborn mind. Stubborn, over protective father Abbie thought with contempt. She fiddled with one of the buttons falling off her black neat blazer as she tried to judge how to appeal to her father and get probation. _ _Arthur Van Helsing was a single father, battling to keep his job in the Police Force whilst continuing on his family legacy in secret. Arthur also had to handle a rebelling teenage daughter who was chomping at the bit, the taste of blood still fresh in her mind. Arthur was anything, if not reasonable and tried desperately to compromise with his daughter. Compromises, which had fallen through to his daughter's lack of judgement.__Officer Van Helsing only wished the best for his daughter and would do anything for her. It killed him to see her sulking around the house, but grounding seemed to be the only method of punishment, which would keep her at bay. It was also one of the only ways he could keep her safe. Safe from the very monsters she was so desperate to destroy_ _Abbie needed air. She couldn't stand the four walls around her closing in. Abbie needed to see the sky. Sighing loudly, Abbie switched off the computer and roughly through her plastic blue chair in its spot. Abbie paused momentarily and looked around the room before her._ _The library at St Vlad's wasn't the best. The stock of books covered the areas of interest and necessity but was seriously lacking in variety. Three sections of books existed in this library; textbooks, Non-fiction and a tiny amount of Fiction. The structure itself was an odd shape, resembling a big top with solid brick walls connected hastily to it. A raised part of the library cut the building in half, steps leading precisely up to the top raised section. This raised section was where a few computers and study desks where. The non fiction books where there too, licking the study desks, trying to convince the studious seniors to walk up and take them for help. Their cries were left ignored._ _The bottom lower part of the library held a horseshoe of desks, a common liked place of teachers to give lectures to their students. Opposite the desks where two rows of computers, where teachers could continue their torture. On the other side of the desks lay the small corner of fiction books, neatly stacked in high shelves, supported by the printer and copy machines. Diagonal from these books were the desks of the librarian and her ruthless assistants._ _Abbie stood on the raised part, looking down at the Construction students receiving a lecture on work placement. Quietly, Abbie picked up her pencil case and legal studies book and walked past the group of her peers, trying not to draw attention to herself. No one even glanced her way. _ _Slipping out the glass doors of the library, she tried hard not to let the heavy door slam against the other. Even after gently coaxing it into a closed position, it still rattled the doorframe and made noise. Shrugging, knowing she did all she could she walked towards her small blue backpack and slung it roughly on her back, adjusting under the weight of school books, a diary, pencil case and a heavy maths text book. _ _Walking quickly and quietly, past the classrooms of learning students, Abbie all but skipped over to the empty table surrounded by trees in the front part of the school. This was by far the quietest part of the school, especially when classes where on. Abbie had always envied the year 12 students for getting this spot as their lunch area. Her only consolation was that she would get this area next year. _ _Green lush winter grass was occasionally dotted with the odd mud patch. Seats and tables where generously scattered around the area so that the year 12's didn't have to search too hard to find an empty seat. Tree's provided shade and protection from the hectic school, which surrounded the peaceful area. _ _Abbie was lucky. No year 12's were here. She had this area to herself. She sighed happily, sucking in the fresh morning air of the winter's day. Her cheeks where stung and red from the icy wind which danced across her cheeks and played lazily with her ponytail. Abbie smiled, as she tasted the salty smoke of a wood fire a few houses down, reminded fondly of her grandparents place. She licked her lips eagerly, trying to find a way to describe the sensation, but was at loss for words to do it justice. _ _Closing her eyes and leaning her head back, she soaked in the morning sun. The trees waved in the breeze, adding a lulling sound to the slice of heaven. There could be no more peace in the world, then right there at that moment. _ _But little did Abbie know, this peaceful scene was about to be shattered into sharp, painful shards. Little did Abbie know, her happy days where numbed. Little did Abbie know, she was about to enter her worst nightmare._ _Abbie was being watched. _ _Abbie was being hunted._ _Hunted by the very monsters she fought. Hunted by her fears. These enemies did not want to kill her, no; they had a very different plan for her in mind. They intended for her to be very useful. She was a part of their master plan. _ _At the front of the school, little but a few meters from where Abbie was sitting lay a line of trees, planted to make a windbreak, saving the school from being battered by heavy winds. Using these trees for cover from the dreaded winter sun, was a group of cloaked figures. _ _Five dark heavy cloaks, completely concealing their bearers, watched the small girl in front of them, waiting for the perfect moment to begin their plan. One cloak stood father to the back, leaning lightly against the twisted trunk of a paperbark tree. This cloak was midnight black, darker than the others. The darkness indicating his supreme authority over his companions. It was ultimately, his command that would set his plan into action, the plan he had worked on for 17 years. He was in a position to let this plan fail. _ _This human girl was the key. _ "_Master" whined a young, high pitched voice, coming from the next darkest cloak, "please, let us go now! We have been waiting here so long." The voice protested, eager to play her part in her master's plan. She adored using her gift and any opportunity to do so was welcome. She was especially going to enjoy using her gift on this girl. The girl's pain would mean strength for her. _ "_Patience Jane" breathed the master, his voice so light and airy, it was impossible to tell how eager he, like his guards where to get the plan underway. "We must wait for the perfect moment." He chided both himself and her._ _A new voice chimed in, coming from the lighter grey coat, concealing a large man. "But Aro" he protested, his bass voice resonating deeply around the group. "What if she does not move? What if she does not come closer? The rest of the humans will be almost out soon, we will have missed our chance!"_ _Another answered the man's question. A female in a similar coloured cloak chimed in "oh, she will come closer, I have no doubt." The soft feminine voice almost purred with confidence. She knew perfectly well that this human girl would come running; especially with the desire she could see lurking in her heart. _ _Aro smiled under his hood. Yes, his plan would work perfectly, but he knew Felix was right. They where out of time, they needed to act now. He hoped, almost foolishly that the girl would come quickly, guns blazing. It would be easier to take her down that way. But he must make sure she wasn't hurt. She was only of use to him alive. _ _Turning towards the woman that had spoken in answer to Felix's question, he said. "Heidi my dear? Would you care to catch the attention of our human friend?" he asked pleasantly, making it seem like they where trying to get the attention of a close friend in an airport. Heidi smiled widely, revealing her sharp white teeth. "Of course Master," Heidi said eagerly, stepping out of her hidden position into the sunlight. _ _Looking around, reaching out with her superior vampire senses, Heidi checked the area, making sure it was clear of any humans. The only human smells came from the direction of the school and she knew the students wouldn't see her. Quickly and agilely removing her grey cloak and throwing it into Alec's waiting arms, she felt the warmth of the sun settle on her freezing skin, throwing rainbows everywhere. _ _She smiled and raised her arm, watching her sparkling skin for a moment, then, twisting her arm, she aimed it at the closed eyes of the girl. Heidi then closed her own eyes, working to make herself appear as another, the very vampire, the girl and her family where so desperate to destroy. _ _Something crashed through Abbie's peaceful sun dream. Frowning, she watched as millions of tiny diamonds danced on the insides of her eyelids. At first she was confused, but then realisation crashed through. Instantly reaching out with her other senses, she tried to pinpoint how close her prey was. Her eyes flew open and began to methodically scan the area, looking for anything out of place._ _Then she saw him._ _Her stomach twisted and she felt like she wanted to vomit, but at the same time, she stared in frozen shock at the vampire she saw 50 meters away. It was him. He was here, right here in front of her, and he was…smiling?_ _Snapping out of her frozen state, Abbie's 12 years of training lodged itself in her mind. This was her chance. This was her chance to finish what grandfather Abraham started. This was her chance to end this creature of evil. One thought rang clear in Abbie's head as she looked at the demon before her._Kill him

Leaping into action, Abbie shoved her hand into her backpack, pulling out her stake and butane lighter. Leaping off the top of the table, Abbie ran as fast as her legs could carry her, her attention on one spot only. Dracula.

Abbie had never ran so fast. She felt almost like she was flying, soaring towards her goal, her destiny. Her hand was clutched so tightly against the hilt of the stake, she could feel the initials on the stake imprinting in her palm. Everything else had ceased to exist as she flew through the entrance black spear like school gates. So close.

Heidi had been watching her approach with a smile. She was easily prepared. She didn't have to worry about the stake, it would shatter the moment it touched her skin. This girl was a fool. She had mistaken her for a Transylvanian vampire. Those weak fathers of all the different species of vampires had so many weaknesses. Her breed was far the superior one; she only had two weaknesses, other vampires with fire and werewolves with fire. This measly human was neither. She would get her down quickly.

A loud battle cry ripped from Abbie's throat as she ran at the vampire, her stake raised high in the air. Heidi leapt at Abbie, head butting her in the stomach, completely winding her. Abbie gasped for air, not finding any left as she watched the ground approach her quickly.

Abbie's body slammed into ground and she felt the back of her jumper rip. The vampire was still on top of her, their weight almost suffocating. Abbie tried to push them off, shoving hard against their chest. The vampire didn't budge, instead snarling at her revealing their impressive set of teeth.

Giving her own equivalent of a growl, Abbie brought up her legs and kicked them off. The pale, immortal body went flying the complete black clothing, making it look like a black and white wraith.

Rolling into a hunting crouch a few meters away Heidi struggled to keep her image of Dracula in place. She had to give it to the human, she was fast…and strong. Heidi watched as the human staggered to her feet and faced her, waiting for her to make the next move.

Like a flash of lightning, Heidi ran at the girl, intending to get her into a headlock, so that Jane could step in and help out. She could see the rest of the guard out of the corner of her eye, watching riveted, each one of them desperate to join in the fight. She was amazed the human girl had not seen them yet.

As she closed the distance, the girl swung, her fist clipping Heidi's left side. Yelling an expletive, Abbie clutched her hand, examining the damage. This lapse in Abbie's attention was long enough for Heidi to slam Abbie face first into the ground. Abbie grunted as a tuft of grass found its way into her shocked mouth.

Grabbing both arms, Heidi, pulled them towards her roughly, flicking the lighter out of the way and creating a double arm lock, rendering her arms useless. Pulling Abbie onto her knees, she looked up at Jane and nodded.

Jane smiled and pushed back her hood, walking into the sunlight, she looked Abbie straight in the eyes. Abbie hissed at the vampire before her and spat at her. Jane looked down disgusted and wiped the top of her shoe on the grass where the spit had landed. Angry now, Jane turned her attention to the girl. She let out the full force of her power onto the girl.

The pain was excruciating. Abbie had never known such pain as this to exist. She screamed, hoping it would somehow stop the dreaded pain. Her head felt as though it was about to explode. There was no reverie. She screamed, her throat horse now from bellowing, but she didn't care, she couldn't care, the pain took all her attention.

Aro stepped forward, flipping his hood back. Standing before the girl, he smiled as he watched her scream. "Jane?" he said happily, "I wish to have a coherent conversation with our friend here." He said gently. Aro looked over his prize. _Yes, _he thought gleefully, _she will be very useful._

The pain in Abbie's head slowly vaporized, leaving nothing but a horrid memory and the acidic taste of metal on her tongue. Looking up at the vampire before her, she got the distinct impression that this wasn't going to be a quick kill. From the look on his face, Abbie gathered that her death would be slow and painful.

Abbie's quick blue eyes observed the threat before her. He was an average height, a bit taller than her father. Long, raven silky hair was tied back in a ponytail an elaborate tie fastening it in place. His face was rather angular, no smooth curves anywhere in sight. His milky red eyes where set under thick, heavy eyebrows. His cheek bones where quite prominent, making him look almost like a carved statue. His slender and almost pointy nose made a vector to his small thin lips, which revealed a set of very sharp teeth. His skin was most unusual. Impossibly so, he was much paler than the other vampires who had came and assembled behind him. His skin looked almost like slate, yet, so thin and papery, almost like slithers of it would fall off he merely brushed it. How peculiar.

"Hello my dear." Cooed Aro, treating her like a small child. Abbie hissed at him. "Now, now young one." Aro scolded fatherly, "don't act so! I won't hurt you unless you force my hand." Abbie recognized a dangerous undercurrent under his breezy and light exterior. Abbie wouldn't put it past this odd vampire to render her unconscious if she angered him in the slightest.

"I am here to offer you the opportunity of a lifetime." Said Aro excitedly, leaning down close, his face merely inches from Abbie's. "I would die, before I took anything from a blood sucker like you!" Abbie spat at him, wriggling against the iron constraint of Heidi's grip.

Aro sighed. "Don't be boring!" said Aro dismissively, his voice laced with the excitement of his plan "everyone who says that dies!" Aro stated, looking a bit put out. Abbie recoiled at the idea. "Besides," Aro continued distracted by something behind her, "you don't really have a say in it anyway. Your answer does not matter."

Abbie frowned, confused. "But I thought you said-" she began, but Aro cut her off quickly. "Now, now, let's discuss this later, we are on a bit of a tight schedule, we must return to Volterra." Aro said quickly, his eyes glancing at the sun.

Aro turned to Alec. "Would you mind Alec?" he asked breezily, gesturing towards Abbie. Alec smiled widely, flicking his brown hair out of his eyes. "Of course master." He said pleased he too could use his power. Cracking his knuckles, he looked intently at Abbie.

A thin white mist began to close the gap between Alec and Abbie. "Whoa!" Abbie cried in shock, struggling to evade the mist, which was now licking against her chest. But there was no humane way to avoid it and soon enough, the world began to flicker, sounds began to fade and her sense of smell and touch slowly disappeared, rendering Abbie totally useless.

And then everything went dark.

**A/N: I hope you liked it. ****I am Australian, before you ask. Born and bread in the land down under. Hell, I am actually here right now. Now I know most of my characters in any story that I write are Australian, but hey, I can guarantee that most of your characters are your country of origin too. Plus, I met a published Author a few months ago (which was so bloody awesome!) and she said that there is no point in writing about something you don't know anything about, and in a sense, I cant really write about an American or a hero whom comes from another country, as my character would be false and unrealistic; a big no no and a pet hate of mine (another is bad grammar). Anyhoo. I hope you enjoy a little bit more of Abbie and her capture by the evil Aro! MWAHAHAHAA! *begins to cough* anyhoo, i leave you with one thing OMD! (Oh my Dracula!)**


	6. Chapter 5: Dream

**Chapter 5: Dream.**

Darkness swirled around her. It was everywhere, pressing in on her. Choking, squashing. Abbie's breathing was so heavy she could hear it. It was the only sound in an otherwise totally dark space. Abbie shivered. It was cold. A rather trivial thing to notice, but the sensation of slowly freezing like water in a cool room, shattered her concentration and distracted her in flashes of awareness.

Abbie looked around her, though; there wasn't anything to see. Just blackness. Nothingness. Abbie shivered, though this time not from the cold.

Something moved to her right. She gasped and turned in the direction of the movement. Nothing. She frowned as her breathing spiked. Something moved behind her. Abbie ripped her body around to face the movement. Nothing still. She felt the hairs on the back of her neck raise, this wasn't right. Something was here. She wasn't alone in this space like she originally thought

There it was again, the dancing and contracting of the darkness. Her breathing became impossibly heavier. Abbie could see the little clouds her breath made in the dark. The movement came again, much closer this time. She had to get out of here, wherever here was.

Abbie went to move forward, but the effort it took to do so was startlingly large. The resistance was incredible. Confused, she lowered her hands, trying to feel for what was hindering her. Abbie's hands touched the glassy smooth and freezing surface of water. She ran my hands over the surface then explored forward and behind herself. Abbie appeared to be in a waist high body of water.

Abbie's breathing tempo changed to short and fast. She longed for light. She needed it to know which way to go. As if someone had heard her thought, and decided to articulate it, suddenly a soft dappled light rose from overhead.

She looked up astonished to stare in the familiar and almost comforting face of the moon. It was round and full, like a child's balloon or ball. After confirming this fact, Abbie looked down from the sky to ascertain her surroundings. She was in the middle of a vast lake.

_How peculiar. How on earth did I get here? What was happening? _Abbie thought

Abbie looked for some sign of land and quickly found a bank of land a decent way away to her left. She turned and began to laboriously walk towards the shore. As she was wading through the midnight black water, her toe bumped against something. Frowning she ignored it and kept walking.

When she was near the shore something brushed against her thigh. Abbie froze instantly. She looked around her. Nothing. She closed her eyes and shook her head. She was being ridiculous. She went to take the first step forward when something brushed against her bottom. Abbie looked down and froze in fear.

A dead man's face was staring blankly back at her. Her blue eyes widened, the hairs on the back of her neck rose as she slowly turned from side to side rather stiffly. She was surrounded by floating corpses. The things touching her legs before and the things she kept hitting with her toes were dead bodies.

Suddenly a blood-curling scream ripped through the still, stale air like a chainsaw in a paper bark forest. After a few seconds Abbie realized the scream was her own and she turned and began to barge her way through the dead bodies, desperately trying to make it to the shore.

It seemed like an eternity later that she reached out and touched the fresh soil of the bank. Abbie was still screaming as she clawed her way up the steep banks, trying desperately to get herself away from the sea of death behind and underneath her.

Abbie grunted and wailed as she scrambled desperately up the bank to the muddy plain before her. She crawled forward sobbing uncontrollably. Her thoughts were in a scramble and images of the sea of death swirled in her mind like the ghostly mist, which swirled over the earth and enveloped her sobbing form.

The mist was cold, and it almost caressed each one of her limbs as it surrounded her and danced about. Abbie was instantly reminded of one of her father's stories and she sat up in shock. Abbie gasped as the mist danced and adjusted to her changed position, lapping at her sprawled legs and tugging at the long black pinstripe skirt, which wetly adorned her legs.

The mist began to embrace her waistline and slowly and rather delicately began to make its way upward. Abbie inhaled deeply and a warm flush settled over her face. Suddenly, comprehension split like lightning in her mind. Shocked at her submission she leapt to her feet, trying to rid herself of the mist enveloping her body.

It clung to her ankles, refusing to let her go. Abbie began to back away, her eyes closed. _It's just a dream Abbie, just a dream. You can wake up from this, you can. Just open your eyes_ Abbie chanted eternally. She ran her fingers through her damp, long blonde hair, commanding herself to wake up. She opened her eyes just a crack experimentally. Abbie quickly clamped them shut again when she still saw the same mist and the muddy plane before her.

Abbie took a deep breath and with her eyes still closed she began to pace slowly backwards away from both the lake and the mist. She began to use a trick that her Father taught her.

_Our Father who art in heaven,_

_Hallow be thy name,_

_Thy kingdom come,_

_Thy will be done,_

_On earth as it 'tis in heaven,_

_Give us this day our daily bread,_

_And forgive us our trespasses, _

_As we forgive those who trespass against us, _

_And lead us not into temptation, _

_But deliver us from evil, _

_Amen_

Abbie sighed, hoping her prayer would have done the trick. Suddenly, she stepped on something hard and then tripped backwards into something. Suddenly, cool hands caught and steadied me.

In surprise, her eyes flew open to reveal the muddy plain. The mist was gone. She turned to see who had caught her, praying silently that it wouldn't be a corpse.

Abbie couldn't have been more wrong.

Abbie's eyes locked with a black pair of eyes which raised the hairs on the back of her neck, made her stomach twist and her heart beat at a zillion miles per hour. The grip on her arm tightened. Abbie managed to tear her eyes away to look at the face they belonged in.

It was the most beautiful face she had ever seen, and ever imagined to exist. Long, midnight black hair was pulled back into a slick bun, tied with a plated leather strap. His skin was pale, almost waxen in colour and had the same feathery texture as the vampire she had seen before. He had a well-defined jaw, yet it had roundness to it. His nose was the same, slender and dead straight. The scent that rolled off him in eddies and waves were musky with hints of something rich smelling. He was dressed in a billowing white long-sleeved shirt, something out of Romeo and Juliet with a mixture of red and mahogany coloured vest with draw string ties over the shirt, showing off an impressively muscular torso. Black tight pants covered his lower half, with the ends of the pants hidden by a pair of black leather boots over the top. A black jacket like cloak hung loosely over his strong shoulders, the hood just resting on the bridge of his shoulders.

The emotions splashed across his face where impossible to read, but what ever they where they made her stomach do back flips and made her heart race all the more.

Abbie knew this beautiful creature was no friend to her and her intuition flickered. The mist, which had seemed otherworldly, was exactly that, and he, not only controlled the mist, but was it.

She tried to tug away from his strong grip. Abbie couldn't get free. She tried again. Still no use. Abbie looked up to see a large smile spread across his crimson lips, revealing a row of sharp pearl white teeth. She gasped and ripped her arm out of his deadly grasp.

She backed away from his approaching form. "S-stay away from me!" she murmured trying to sound more confident and threatening then she was. Her statement had the effect that a piece of candy would have to a 5-year-old child. His smile grew sinister and he walked with more glee, like a tiger pouncing on its prey.

"Oh sweet merciful Jesus." Abbie choked out and turned and ran. She knew he was faster then her, so he had no idea why she ran. Suddenly his figure appeared in front of here, materializing out of thin air. Abbie screeched and made a sharp turn to her left, plunging into a thick, dense forest.

Abbie leapt over ferns, danced over fallen tree trunks, moving with a skill she didn't know she had. She felt like a doe, leaping away from a predator. With a sickening twist of her stomach, she realized that is exactly what she was. Prey.

A light appeared up ahead. The lights multiplied as she ran closer, eager to reach wherever the lights where coming from she increased my speed. A growl sounded out from behind her and she swerved in time to miss the diving form of the man. Abbie screamed and leapt through a thorn bush and continued to run towards the rainbow array of lights.

Sound was beginning to reach her now. It was faint at first, but the noise grew and grew until the haunting melody of a circus sideshow began to override her senses. Abbie ran faster and faster, one thought running through her head. _Must get to the circus, must get to the circus. _Abbie crashed her way through the last line of undergrowth and toppled onto the ground of a grassy field. She looked up bewildered to see a brightly coloured, red and white striped arch above her head with a sign, which simply read "the circus"

The circus seemed to be the typical sort; there was the big top circus tent, the side show amusements, the fairy floss stands and surrounding the whole space, was a ring of caravans and trailers, creating a protective barrier to the outside world, keeping in the mystery of the circus. The bright flashing bulbs seemed to serve as a warning to the outside world.

A twig snapped to her left. She turned slowly to see a pair of glowing eyes glaring at her from the darkness of the forest. Abbie swallowed noisily and quickly scrambled to her feet and stumbled into the protective embrace of the circus grounds.

Abbie looked around amazed. Where were all the people? "What on earth is going on here?" Abbie wondered aloud to herself.

"Abbie" cooed a haunting voice. Abbie spun around wildly, trying to figure out wherever the noise was coming from. The circus grounds where empty and desolate, the haunting lights making the whole scene look like one from a horror movie. Now Abbie knew why her friends where scared of clowns. "Abbie" came the same voice. It was coming from her left. She spotted a metal pole sticking out of the ground. She walked over to it and gave it a small tug. It came out of the soft soil easily. Now she had a weapon. Abbie didn't feel safer at all; it was a cold comfort.

Abbie slowly began to walk to her left, her senses on high alert. Abbie clutched with all her might to the pole, ignoring the hairs in her eyes, which were obstructing her view, but they clung to her sweaty forehead and in the slight breeze, tickled her cheeks and nose. She managed to disentangle one hand form the pole to tuck them behind her ear.

As her finger brushed her ear, a larger breeze came, bringing with it a smell. The smell of frankincense wafted towards her. The smell was polluted; essences of tobacco, peppermint and another incense mixed with the pure smell of the frankincense. A sound followed the smell, shattering the fueled silence, there was a scratch of vinyl then the whirring of a handle, and then a mysterious melody filled the air

This was amore concrete sound for Abbie to track. She rounded the curve of the big top, walking very slowly. She would have walked right past it if she hadn't heard her name again. "Abbie" called the same voice. Abbie froze at how loud and how close the voice was. She turned to her right, towards the voice when her eyes fell across a quaint tent.

It was made of some kind of luxurious material; felt maybe, and it was dark and deep purple, almost black in colour. Move bead curtains guarded the entrance. The strange smells wafted from the almost completely dark inside. Before the doorway was a black woven mat with golden silk stars sown onto the surface.

Abbie looked at the tent warily, with no intent on going in. But her curiosity was overpowering her. Abbie took one careful step forwards. The sound of a woman humming shattered through the melody coming from inside the tent, rather than mirrored it. She recognized the voice instantly, it was the same gravely voice which had called her name. The voice startled her again. "Don't lurk in doorway's my dear. It's rude. One might question your upbringing." The gravely voice said in a mixture of nonchalance and impatience. The person, who ever it was, was waiting for a reply. "Technically it's a tent entrance." Abbie mumbled feeling like she was going to throw up with nerves.

The speaker made a sound of annoyance "For goodness sakes girl, just come in!" the voice said now very annoyed. Abbie frowned and shook her head. Like the speaker saw the denial, or heard it in her silence, they grumbled, "You are an exact replica of your mother." Abbie gave a start. How did they know her mother? Her mother had been dead for 16 years.

Abbie's legs propelled her forwards, pushing her into the tent. She swatted the bead curtains out of her way, pulling a face as they clung to her body. As soon as she was through the doorway, she was assaulted by the surroundings and the strange feeling she had been to this place before.

Dream catchers and various religious icons hung from strings on the ceiling. Crystals and tarot cards adorned a small table near the door. Chests and cushions made a fusion on the ground and around the circle of the inner area were piles of brightly coloured storage boxes with pictures of far away lands covering them. In the immediate center of the room was a round table with a black silk cloth, draped elegantly over it with a round crystal ball in the center, catching the light from the tiny rose candles placed around the room and throwing rainbows around the room. A shriveled hand with long fake frusia nails drummed impatiently on the table, the zoo of golden rings clicking as the fingers moved. The face of the hand's owner was hidden, shrouded in darkness.

Abbie stood before the table, eyeing the chair, which was obviously meant for her. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a movement. Abbie looked up to see the impatient face of a 60-year-old woman. "Whoa!" Abbie cried and stumbled backwards, in her shock dropping the pole. Her keen, penetrating gaze appraised Abbie. "Well" she said abruptly, "I can see what the prophecy meant." She said rather bluntly, fixing an ornately patterned black headscarf with gold swirls.

Abbie tried to collect herself. She looked at the woman before her. She was gaunt, skinny as a twig, lines of worry and stress marred her once beautiful face. Her skin was tanned, showing she had spent a hard life outdoors, the state of her hands reflected this. Her green-brown eyes held a mixture of impatience and relief. She was wearing heavy makeup, with cat eye style eyeliner. Large gold hoop earrings adorned her ears. Her clothes were a mixture between alternative Egyptian fashion and the traditional gypsy garb.

"Have you finished staring at me like a codfish?" she demanded, insulted by her staring. Abbie closed my eyes and reopened them. She looked at her again; she was looking at her just as critically and taking a draw from a cigarette. She breathed out the toxic fumes. Abbie wrinkled her nose at the smell. "Are you going to sit down, or just stand there like an idiot?" she asked her, one eyebrow raised.

Abbie appraised the seat again and sat down warily. She put out the butt in a rose pink ashtray, then shoved it under the table. She placed her elbow on the table and held out her hand to Abbie. "Give me your hand," she said, daring Abbie to object. Abbie reached out and gently placed her hand in the gypsies. She held it tightly, bending her head over Abbie's hand and closed her eyes.

She stayed that way for a while and Abbie's un-comfort increased. She wriggled anxiously. Abbie was a skeptic when it came to these sorts of things. Abbie opened her mouth to speak when she shushed her. Abbie frowned, insulted and tried to speak again and was shushed still. Abbie glared at her bowed head. "Patience, like your mother you were not blessed with that virtue." she warned her unmoving. Finally she looked up, her face blank, her eyes also blank. Her lips began to move, like she was chanting some kind of silent incantation and her face turned to one of ancient sadness.

"It's happening. It's finally happening. The prophecy is happening! After all these years, all those who tried to protect you. All of it has failed. It was a waste! Such a waste! I told her, I told your mother to make sure you would remain safe! But she didn't listen! No of course she didn't! Why does no one listen to their futures when I tell them." Abbie looked at the woman baffled, not understanding any of her raving and ranting. Suddenly, the woman's intensity spiked, she stood, throwing back her chair. "Where are you? Were you taken by them? Were you kidnapped by the vampires?" she demanded, slamming her fist down on the table. "Uh…" Abbie said confused and slightly scared "yeah." this was the wrong answer to say. "NO! NO! NO!" cried the gypsy "IT'S HOPELESS! WE ARE ALL DOOMED!" She cried in total anguish.

Okay, this lady seriously had gone bonkers. Abbie ripped her hand from the gypsies and threw back the chair, her face flushed with anger and nerves "oh! I didn't even want to come in here in the first place and then you spew this crap on me about some prophecy and something about we are all doomed!" Abbie adjusted her white blouse while she continued, "this makes no sense! I don't even believe in this crap anyway! Your just a phony circus gypsy!" the gypsy looked at her skeptically, "your mother didn't want to believe either at first, but after a while she came around, she certainly believed when she was on her deathbed." The gypsy muttered.

"T-this isn't real" Abbie chocked out. "How do you know? How do you know that this dream, more wackier than all your other truly wacky ones, isn't as real as the breath that passes through you lungs?" the gypsy challenged, her face hard. Abbie's breathing was creeping towards hyperventilation. "This cant be real," she whispered, trying desperately to convince herself. The gypsy leant forward, seeing she had broken through her exterior. "You my dear, are in grave danger. A dark shadow lurks above your head, waiting to strike when you least expect it. You are being hunted by the devil himself. Don't trust anyone. May god bless you." she whispered earnestly, making the sign of the cross at her.

Abbie nodded, trying desperately to calm down and absorb what she had just said. Abbie turned dreamily to walk away. She reached the bead curtains and was about to walk out when the gypsies voice pulled her back "wait!" The gypsy cried as she paused. Abbie didn't turn to face her, just listened to what she had to say. "There is something you should know." She whispered, trying to hide her voice from some unknown listener. Abbie turned her head slightly, intrigued. "Your mother, though her heart no longer beats, is still alive in some respects." she hissed.

Abbie felt the blood drain from her face and the hairs on the back of her neck raise. Abbie whirled around to face her. "I-I b-beg your pardon?" she chocked out. "Your mother lives." she hissed again. Abbie gave a gasp and stumbled out of the tent, thoughts whizzing through her head like a hive of angry hornets.

The voice of the ringmaster echoed out through the empty grounds. Only vaguely aware of what was happening, Abbie stumbled towards the big top, throwing the silk curtains out of her way and all but running in.

She screeched to a stop. The big top was filled and on stage stood the ringmaster in a long black jacket, with a top hat and whip. Behind him stood a chorus of red-cloaked figures, their faces hidden, singing in a beautiful chorus to a haunting melody.

As Abbie watched, the army of red-cloaked figures advanced, coming towards her, their ghostly pale arms reaching for her soul. Abbie screamed in horror and raised her arm up to shield her.

Abbie's scream broke through the soundless barriers of sleep and her eyes flew open to reveal the cool wet concrete of the floor she was lying on. With a gasp, the last things she remembered seeing flooded into her mind. Sitting up straight, she looked at her surroundings, terror making her heart race.

Dirty stoned walls surrounded the cave-like room, numerous cells with steel bars like from the convict movies bordered the walls, save for a small gap with a large iron door locked tight. The floor was covered in concrete and parts where wet. It was dank, the air smelling of mold and decaying flesh. The temperature inside the room was freezing. Abbie rubbed her arms, trying to create some warmth as tears streaked down her cheeks.

Abbie was imprisoned.


End file.
